The Larsarus Effect
by GrapieBee
Summary: He smiles at her, his own eyes brimming and spilling tears down his cheeks. He's been afraid for so, so long. He's been afraid of so many things. It's only then, in that moment, that he allows himself to truly let go. [Contains major spoilers for the most recent episodes]
1. Fear

Lars had always held a quiet anxiety when it came to the topic of death. Ever since his mom and dad had to explain why his grandfather would not be able to visit again, it had been an undercurrent in nearly everything he did. He was afraid all the time. Even if he couldn't place his finger on the source of his fear for many years, it was there.

So, when Steven told him he'd died, that same quiet terror had torn its head out of the mud it had been stuck in for so long. He felt alive, didn't feel all that different then he had moments before. Sure, he was pink now and yeah, maybe his heart beat a little slower, but he was still the person he'd always been. He was still Lars.

Any semblance of normalcy he might have had about his situation, which really wasn't much given the whole alien and giant ladies thing, when Steven touched his hair. A soft, warn light glowing from his head was not normal. Definitely not normal at all.

Though, as Steven explained to him what this was, what that meant for the younger boy, he took a deep breath and steeled himself. Steven was the one being hunted. He was the one whose life had been at stake in the first place. He had to get back to Earth.

When Lars himself is finally able to return to Earth, he knew that there would be response to the change in his appearance and a slew of questions as to where he had been for months. Steven was there when he sat with his parents and quietly recounted his time on home world, as he told them about his fight with the alien robots, robinoids as Steven kept calling them. He told them how it had exploded in his face.

He told them how the next moment he was awake, colored pink, and apparently the first human brought back to life. At least, outside of any biblical text. He had tried to lighten the mood, saying that the process should be called the Larsarus effect.

His mother particularly did not find that funny.

When they asked him what this now meant, gesturing to the off color of his skin and unnaturally pink hair, he and Steven had shared a look and shrugged.

He was still the Lars they had always known, to a degree. Sure, he hadn't felt hungry or thirsty or tired since Steven had revived him, but he was still himself.

When years began to pass and Lars remained untouched by time, a cold hand of anxiety curled around his gut. He could eat, but he didn't need to. He could sleep, but he didn't need to. He looked human, but he was afraid that he might no longer really be what he once was.

His parents put on a brave face as they grew older and their son remained the same. He knew they were worried. Knew that with each year that his hair did not grow, with each meal he felt no hunger for their fear of him grew.

Eventually, at the behest of Steven, he moved from his parents' home and into the temple. He couldn't bear to see their wrinkles deepen every day, couldn't bear to watch their hair turn gray.

He talked with them on his phone all the time, telling them about what he and Steven were up to, what missions he and the growing group of misfit Gems had recently done. He enjoyed this connection, strained as it was, to the person he'd been before all this craziness.

It's only fifteen years after his fateful day on Homeworld that his parents die suddenly, in a car crash. It takes him at least two years to work up the courage to outright to sell his childhood home. It's fifty years later that it is finally torn down and, with it, a nearly all his human memories.

When Sadie asks him to be the Man of Honor at her wedding, a part of his heart breaks as he says yes. When she asks if he'll be the Godfather of her first child, he doesn't even try to hold back his tears, joy and pain equally mixing together.

When she dies, decades later, he is there, but lingers at the edge of the people surrounding her. Friends and family hug and kiss and remind her of all the good times they shared with her. She is an old and wizened thing when she takes her last breath. He has not so much as lost an eyelash in nearly eighty years.

Lars cannot recall when he stopped thinking of himself as human. Was it when Steven's dad dies, only two years after his own? Perhaps it was when Sadie passed? Or maybe it was when he and Steven were both ball bearers at Connie's funeral? When

The pain and joy of life begins to blur for him after the first century. The Gems do their best to console them, help them dry their tears and listen to their pain.

But, for all their sympathy and compassion, they have no way to understand the sting and ache of mortality. They had never felt the march of time the same way Steven and he had. The Gems had never had to worry about growing old. The only way death came to them, or the closest thing to death a Gem could experience, was in being shattered. Even then, some part of who they had once been lived on in the pieces. They never truly understood the finality that came with a human's death and they never could.

Lars and Steven took comfort in the fact that they had each other, at least. Neither of them was fully Human, nor fully Gem. They had each other and, honestly, most days that was enough.

There came a time though, that they both realized that this would not be the case forever.

Decade after decade passed and he remained untouched. His right eye remained scarred, his hair a fluffy tuft in the top of his head, his arms and legs long and gangly. His skin never blemished, his eyesight never dulled, his heart rate never faltered from that slow, monotonous beat it had been in since his revival.

Steven, though, Steven's body still responded to the flow of time. It was so slow that it took Lars years to realize that slowly, surely, Steven was growing. He watched as Steven's hair grew, watched as the once shorter boy eventually towered over Lars.

The cold claws of anxiety sunk into Lars gut again, for the first time in centuries, when Steven got his first gray hairs himself.

Those claws numb him entirely when, nearly fifteen hundred years after Lars' time on Homeworld, Steven Universe died.

Lars is there, right at Steven's side, to watch his very last link to his mortal years fade away from the world. The wizened old man is surrounded by the hundreds, if not thousands of friends he's made over his long life. A part of Lars so hoped that, since it was Steven's tears that had given him this unnaturally long life, Steven's death might be his own.

Lars watches as the old man breathes his last and passes, his organic body crumbling underneath its own weight once he is gone. The only thing left behind a Rose Quartz gem, just small enough to fit in his palm.

Steven was gone. But Lars was still there.

He leaves the Gems once Steven is gone. Steven was the reason he was there in the first place; there was no longer a reason for him to stay. Lion is by his side when he sets out along the edge of the sea, the ebb and flow of the waves the only thing that has never changed.

Time is lost on him as he and the giant cat travel together. Neither need sleep, but they rest often. Neither of them need food, but they eat when they can.

He watches as cities are built up and fall, as wars are fought time and time again for the same stupid reasons. The idea of death is always on his mind, a voice always tempting him to try.

'Just let yourself fall. Just let yourself drown. You do want to know if you can die, right?'

Every time that voice crops up, Lars reaches back into the oldest part of his mind, thinks back to the day he'd died on a far-off world and the words he had told Steven.

 _You brought me back to life. Just…let me be someone who deserved it._

So, he persisted. Time and time again, he persisted.

It's years after he and Lion have entered the desert that someone finds them.

A woman, just as tall as Steven had been when grown, smiled at him as she approached. As she drew closer, he could see a familiar, painfully familiar, gemstone embedded into her abdomen. Her hair was in giant, pink ringlets that reached down her back. Her expression was soft and warm.

"Hello, Lars."

A twinge of something old touches at his heart. It had been so long since someone had said his name.

"H-hello." His response is slow and low. It's been so long since he's spoken that he must wrap his tongue around the word. He'd nearly forgotten how to speak.

The woman crouches to be at eye level with him. It's only then that he can see her eyes are brimming with tears.

"I was wondering, if you don't mind, could you tell me about my son?"

Her voice, watery and sad and happy all at once, cuts through the numbness that has been the only thing he's known for so long.

He smiles at her, his own eyes brimming and spilling tears down his cheeks. He's been afraid for so, so long. He's been afraid of so many things. It's only then, in that moment, that he allows himself to truly let go.

"I-I'd love to."


	2. Reformed

Garnet knew that Rose would reform, had known it was something that would happen the moment Steven's physical body turned to dust.

She couldn't tell when rose would reform and, painfully, a part of her could not care to look further into the future to find the moment. Her vision, both future and present, was clouded with grief. She had been so certain that the pain watching Rose fad away and turn into a bundle of flesh and nerves would be the worst pain ever.

Oh, how wrong she had been.

While Rose had guided her on loving herself, Steven had shown her how to love the world around her.

Rose had her through a war against Homeworld, Steven lead them through peace talks.

Rose had been the start of something beautiful. Steven had been the final product.

There was no quelling this ache. Garnet even split herself apart, to see if the terrible grief belonged to one Gem more than the other. Ruby and Sapphire did not need to be apart for long to know that this was a shared pain expressing itself in different ways.

Ruby could not stay still. Her tears became steam against her face before they could fall.

Sapphire could not move. Her tears never got a chance to form, she was frozen solid from the inside out.

When they fused again, their extremes of grief melding together once more, Garnet hugged herself and wept. It hurt more, in a way, to feel this loss together. But, like this, they could at least cry.

Garnet had been worried when a vision came to her, months after Steven had died and only two weeks since Lars had left their company. She could see Rose reforming soon. What she could not see, though, was how she would react to the death of her son. Would she come back, expecting everything to be the same as when she left? Could she even begin to understand how much Steven had meant to so many?

Would she even want to understand?

These thoughts plagued Garnet for weeks as she waited, day by day, second by second, for the once leader of the Crystal Gems to reform herself.

The day comes and, when it does, Garnet knows her fears had been unfounded.

When Rose reformed, tears already streaming down her cheeks, she knew. In some way or another, Rose knew how beloved her son was, had grown to love him just as they had, and grieved for his lose too.

They had never seen her cry like this before. Her tears had always had a certain regal flair to them, sliding down her face without fuss, dropping off her full cheeks and chin delicately. The tears she cried when she reformed though, were unrefined and raw. Sobs wracked her body and, despite all three of them holding her, consoling her, telling her how happy they were she was back, her anguish knew no end.

She never spoke, even when her tears had subsided for a moment in time, she would not speak.

Pearl was always at her side, telling her every little thing she could remember about Steve.

Amethyst showed her the numerous pictures and images she had been saving over the years. She gave a running dialogue as she did, pointing out each little detail of anecdote.

Garnet just sat with her, a quite reverence between them.

It's nearly a hundred years after her reforming that she finally says anything.

"Who's this boy that Steven is always with?"

Garnet had been the only one present. Rose had photobook after photobook open, lovingly looking at Steven in each photo. Garnet looked to where she was pointing and a small grin came to her face.

"That's Lars, Rose. Steven accidentally healed him with his tears while on Homeworld. He left our company only a little while after Steven…"

Died.

Even after a century, she still couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Was he human, Garnet?"

"Yes. At one point he was."

Rose only nodded and turned her attention back to the books around her.

When she's gone the next day, Garnet is not surprised. Both Amethyst and Pearl are besides themselves, questioning why Rose would leave them again, where had she gone, would she be coming back?

"Don't worry you two. She's just gone to find Lars. She'll be back before you know it."

When one week became a month became a year became a century, Garnet knew Rose must be taking her sweet time. As much as she tried, Rose had always been one Gem that always seemed to throw her future vision for a loop. She saw time and time again, Rose returning without Lars. Then something would happen, her drive would be reinvigorated by something, and she would begin her search anew.

When a vision came to her, of Rose and Lars returning together, she knew this time it would been for certain.

The day came when, from afar, Pearl spotted a familiar ringlet pink hair and had cried out in joy.

As they ran to meet her, Garnet could hear a sound she hadn't heard in years.

Rose was laughing. Lars was laughing.

Somehow, some way, whatever it was that the human had said to her. But she knew, deep within the components of herself, that Rose had finally started to heal.

All because of a human.


	3. Still Standing

Pearl started the day as she always did. First, morning stretches on the beach as the sun rose. Second, she did a thorough check on the house, looking for any signs of wear or tear.

Of course, it wasn't the same house Greg had built 1,500 years ago. The materials had been replaced only as needed, all at Steven's insistence. This, at first, had confused her tremendously. It would have been so much easier to start anew, then to slowly, painfully, meticulously replace each part of the as it gave out over time.

Late one night, as Pearl helped him replace the deck for the fifth time in four hundred years, he'd admitted something to her.

"So many things have disappeared Pearl. Connie, Dad, Sadie. Beach City isn't even called Beach City anymore! I made so many memories with everyone in this house. It's like, maybe if I can keep house standing, a part of them is still alive too."

After that night, she never again questioned the work and effort he put into the upkeep of his childhood home. When Steven grew too old, too weak to do much of anything, Pearl took it upon herself to watch over the house.

The day he died, she still didn't quite understand what he meant. A part of her was furious at herself for not trying harder.

As they waited for Rose to reform, as Garnet said she eventually would, Pearl busied herself with keeping the house standing. She did her research, looking at what materials existed that would best wear the test of time. The deck got a good cleaning and sealing every summer. The house was dusted daily, the floor swept and waxed. Every spring the windows were opened and the stale air let out. Pearl personally didn't think it did much of anything, but Steven had always insisted that it brought good energy to the house. Who was she to doubt him?

Steven's room, however, remained just as it had been when he passed. The only thing Pearl ever dared disturb was the dust.

This was her routine, as days became weeks and weeks became months, she kept the house standing. There were days where she found a deep, soulful contentment in the work. There were days where the work felt like a blade through her heart.

It was like losing Rose all over again. She wanted to forget Steven. She wanted to remember Steven. Regardless of what she did or where she went, everything was just a distraction from the pain and it never lasted long.

It hurt and didn't hurt to be in that house. It was bittersweet. It was welcoming. It was both right and wrong.

When Rose finally reformed, Pearl so hoped that they would find the same comforts in one another that they had so many years before. But the moment she saw the tears in Rose's eyes, heard her agonized cries, she knew Rose had been changed.

She wasn't just the Gem who had loved and protected the Earth. Not anymore. She was a Gem who had felt the sting of mortality. Who had taken organic and inorganic life and fused them, creating something entirely new. Who had somehow learned who her son was without ever speaking to him.

She was a grieving mother who had never met her child.

So, Pearl did what she always had done best: her own pain became secondary to Rose's. She spent day and night with her, comforting her, telling her ever kind and good word she had ever thought or heard about Steven.

It did nothing to help quell Rose's agony and that fact reopened a wound in Pearl she had thought long healed. This wasn't the Rose she had fallen in love with. This was someone new and this someone was grieving so deeply that Pearl feared she may never be able to stop.

Years and years pass with Rose's grief permeating the very air surrounding her. Pearl did what she could to comfort her, to let her know she was there to help. But Rose never spoke, never told them what it was she needed.

So, her own heart aching in the grief of losing Steven and the Rose she had once known, Pearl went back to doing what Steven had unknowingly tasked her with.

She kept the house standing.

When Rose is suddenly gone one morning, a deep, primal part of herself begins to panic, to cry out to whatever might hear her thoughts.

 _Not again. Please. Please not again._

She only calms when Garnet tells her that she hasn't left forever. She's simply gone to find Lars.

So, once more, she finds herself waiting for a return. Days pass. Then weeks. Then months. Then years. In all that time, she kept the house standing.

When Rose finally returned, with that bubbling, beautiful laughter Pearl had fallen in love with floating through the air, she finally understood why Steven had wanted this place to stay standing.

It's walls, now a patchwork of varied materials, were a tapestry of stories and changes.

The iron wrought deck furniture was the same they had gotten for Steven's hundredth birthday party, well cared for and loved. Countless cook outs and cakes and parties had been held around it.

Steven's room, his personal affects, his favorite knickknacks, all brought a gentle joy to her mind when she looked at them. Even grown, he had always insisted that he was never too old for a toy.

Even though he was gone and he could never come back, this had been his house. In a way, because it was still there, because it was still standing, so was he. It was that realization that finally let Pearl feel her grief fully, to finally let herself begin to heal after all this time.

She was glad she had kept the house standing. It told a story, more so then words ever could. Lars would have a place to come home to. Rose would have a place to come home to.

They all would have a place to come home to.

Pearl had kept Steven's house standing and, in turn, it had kept her standing too.


	4. Someday

For all the growth she had done over the years, Amethyst still wasn't necessarily a fan of people coming into her room. As it had always been, it was a haven for her to display things as she saw fit, to collect and hold onto what someone else might call garbage. Certain exceptions to this rule had developed over the years. Rose had never questioned how she managed her room. Steven always seemed to view her room as some sort of playground. And Lars, well…

"You know, we can always find you a set of chairs that don't have any holes in them, you know."

Lars tended to try and help.

"Yeah, well, it gives it character, you know?" she said, pushing a wooden crate aside, opening up a new path through her vast collection.

"If you say so. How much farther did you say you stashed my clothes?"

"Eh, can't be much. I definitely remember passing that pile of rocks when bringing them in here dude."

Lars grunted as he stepped over a pile of dusty books, noticeably scratching at the collar of the too new shirt he was wearing. Why human society had suddenly decided that a synthesized burlap fabric was the best to use when making clothes, she sure as hell didn't know.

With Lars' sudden return, the frail balance her, Garnet, and Pearl had formed during his and Rose's absence came to a halt. Sure, Garnet kept her future vision peeled for anything pertaining to Rose that might be alarming. Pearl kept up the maintenance of the house itself. Amethyst, in all her infinite wisdom, was still storing Lars' clothes and personal belongings in her room.

' _We don't know when or even if he'll ever be back. By the time he shows up, all of his belongings might just be too old-'_

' _Pearl, P-Gemmy, I promise I got this.'_

' _Oh, alright. If you insist.'_

The short conversation had happened nearly two hundred years ago. What had possessed her to do such a thing, she wasn't sure of any longer.

They continued walking in silence for a few minutes longer, both of them pushing piles and items out of the way as was appropriate, Amethyst kicking and pushing a little harder then she needed to. She was mad and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Maybe it was because of how Rose had grieved silently for the better part of a century before disappearing on them again.

Maybe it was Lars showing up so suddenly a century after Rose left, the duo full of smiles and laughter none of them could have brought out of their one leader.

Maybe it was because all of this brought Steven to mind, his calm voice reminding her time and again it was ok to feel sad. It was ok to feel mad. It was ok to let herself just be.

But she didn't want to feel those things. She was tired. Tired of hurting, tired of remembering, tired of watching the good things in her life slip away from her again and again. She was so tired of hurting, she would prefer to not feel anything at all-

"Amethyst, you didn't tell me you saved the Big Doughnut!"

The sound of Lars' voice jarred her from her slow spiraling thoughts and she turned her attention to the pinked skinned human. He was pulling back a large tarp, the large pile underneath revealing itself to be giant doughnut statue that had once stood atop Lars' place of work. She let a small smirk form on her features as a look of awe came over Lars' face as he put a hand to the time worn letters and chipping cement.

"Yeah, you know, I figured no one else was doing anything with it. I had Garnet help me get it in here a looooong time back."

"This is freaking awesome…" Lars said under his breath.

"Oh, Oh! Hang on Lars, your junk's right over here!" she said as a series of bubbles came into view.

Even for how much her grief had hurt, she' taken her job of watching over Lars' personal items very seriously. Steven might have been his friend first, but the three of them had become near inseparable over the years.

That thought alone jabbed painfully at something in her chest. She did her best to push the thought aside as she pulled a large, purple bubble towards herself. A large box lay in the center of it, Pearl's perfect and loopy handwriting on the side declaring the contents as 'Lars' personal affects, box 3 of 12'.

She groaned slightly as she popped the bubble, catching the weight of the box as gravity took effect on it once more.

She'd forgotten how many boxes Pearl had split Lars stuff up into. Between the two of them, there was no way they could take everything with them on one trip. Maybe if she dug around a bit, she might find a wagon or wheelbarrow of something-

"Hey Amethyst, what the heck is this?"

As soon as she realized what it was that Lars had in his hand, the tattered cover and well-loved spine of a book no one else but her had seen before, she unceremoniously dropped the box on the ground, rushing to where he stood.

"What the HELL Lars!? We came in here to get your stuff, not to dig a-around in my junk!" She all but yelled, a pained sharpness to her voice as she made to swipe it out of his hands.

"Amethyst, everything in here is-"

She yanked it from his hands and shut it firmly.

"Yeah, it's got a bunch of junk about Steven in it. It's no big deal-"

"Amethyst, I miss him too. It's ok. I still miss him too."

At his own admission, at the sound of his own pain filled voice, Amethyst's vision blurred as her eyes filled and then spilled tears down her cheeks. She furiously tried to wipe them away, trying to will them to stop. But she couldn't.

It had already been two centuries, why did this pain still feel so raw? Why did she still feel like this?

"No, i-it's not ok. N-none of this is ok, Lars." She said, sinking to the ground, pressing her face to the book's cover. This was not the first, nor certainly not the last time, she would hold the album like this.

The room was silent for a long moment, the sound of her soft sniffling the only thing bouncing off the cavernous walls.

She shoulders stiffen instinctively as a hand rests between her shoulder blades, rubbing the space in a soothing circle.

"It is ok to still miss him, Amethyst. It's ok."

Just like that, the pain and rage and despair that had been unknowingly bubbling just below the surface unsunk its claws from her. She closed her eyes and sighed with a shudder, hugging the book to her chest, pressing the tear stained cover to her gem.

"It still hurts." She whispered simply, tucking her face to the top of the book.

"Yeah. Sucks, doesn't it?"

She couldn't help the small snort of laughter that sounded from her chest. The three of them had been peas in a pod; Steven the optimistic ray of sunshine, Amethyst as the laid-back realist, and Lars as the snarky pessimist.

She missed that. She didn't just miss Steven, she missed the dynamic he'd brought to her life. She missed his goofy jokes, she missed playing old video games with him, she missed that he always made sure to have her favorite snacks in the house, even though she didn't need to eat.

The worst Gems were supposed to stick together. Why would he go somewhere she couldn't follow?

She let herself sob, pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes as Lars pulled her into a one-armed side hug.

This hurt. This hurt so much. She knew it would hurt less, eventually.

But for now, she would let herself grieve like Steven had just died. She would grieve like this as many times as she needed to.

It would be ok someday. Not now, but someday.


	5. The Pit

When Rose became half of Steven, she had no way of preparing herself for what that experience would be like. She had whole heartedly expected that it would be similar to being poofed, in that there would no influence from the outside world. That time would pass in an instant for her and she would have contributed to a human life in her own unique way. Oh, how wrong she had been.

The moment Steven was born, the moment she retreated into her gem, she knew this was different.

While there was no seeing or hearing the world around Steven, there were emotions and feelings and traces of thoughts. As an infant, Steven was fairly one track minded and, with it, so were his emotions. But as he grew, as he became more and more his own person, Rose began to discover something about humans she had no way of understanding until now.

They felt deeply and suddenly, much more so then she was used to. She had read about fight or flight responses, but to feel it first hand? It was no wonder human hearts could just simply stop working from the stress of it all.

With all things, with the unpleasant came the good. Steven loved and cared about so many things. About so many people. She was amazed time and time again by the variety of love he held for others. His love for his friends was slightly different then the love he held for Greg. The love he held for Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were different from one another.

All the same, he loved them all. He loved them deeply and, every chance she got, Rose would let herself bask in that emotion.

This is what it meant to be organic life. This is what it meant to be human. With such small, short life spans, every moment of their lives were rich with emotions and sensations that she had never been able to grasp. Not until now at least.

There came a point in time, in the endless stream of emotions and whispered thoughts that had been her world for so long, that Steven realized he was going to die soon.

The closer he grew to that moment, the softer his flow of emotions became. Rose knew this day would come, someday. She thought she had come to terms with that long ago. But, when the time came and Steven's stream of emotions became a trickle, a terrible fear clenched her heart tightly.

As he became weaker, a cold panic began to set in. She had never had a heartbeat, but she could feel Steven's heart begin to slow. She had never been tired before, but she could feel her son's eyes grow heavy. She had never needed breath before, but she could feel a weight lay on her chest, making each breath harder than the last.

This was death. Steven was dying all around her and she was there to bear witness to it with him.

Those cold claws of panic dug into her, deeper, deeper than anything that had come before it as it became impossible for his body to continue on-

And then it stopped. Steven was gone and she was still there.

She didn't know how long she lay there, every fiber of her being raw and ragged. She didn't know how long it took her to form her thoughts again. She didn't know how long it was before she realized that she could reform. She could go out into the world Steven had so loved.

She didn't know how long it was when she finally gathered up the energy to project her form from her Gem. The moment she reformed was the moment the weight of son's life crashed down on her. Sobs wracked her very being, her words were lost to her, and all she could feel was a terrible, dark pit form in her chest.

This was grief. This was regret. She recognized this feeling as, time and time again, Steven had drenched her in these terrible feelings. It was so much worse when it wasn't second hand.

She spent years crying, spent years trying to turn her thoughts to the beautiful life her son had led without tears springing forth.

Pearl told her how wonderful of a student he was, how curious and talented he was.

Amethyst told her about all the fun they had together, how goofy at heart he was.

Garnet, more often than not, sat in silence with her. She only ever spoke to remind Rose time and time again,

"He loved you very much, Rose. He wanted you to know that."

Years passed and the pit in her chest never seemed to mend. Regardless of how many wonderful stories the Gems told her, of how many times they recounted the terrible puns and goofy jokes that had been his, nothing helped.

When she left to find Lars, a part of her didn't know what she was doing. What was the use in finding the man her son had accidentally made immortal? What would he do for her that her own kind couldn't?

It was these thoughts, these prevailing hesitations, that had her turning back around time and time again. But, always, a small part of herself won out. She knew what awaited her back on the beach. Supportive friends who could never, ever understand how deep her grief went.

She had been half of her son for the better part of two millennia. She had bared witness to his death in a way nothing else could. A part of her was now just as human as Steven had been. Every emotion was deep and wonderful and terrible now.

Like the book Greg had shown her so, so many years ago, about a beautiful white horse with a horn.

' _I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet.'_

She was not the same as she had been before Steven was born, the same things that would have eased her pain would not ease it now.

So, she continued on, time and time again, searching out the last human link her son had forged in his life.

When she found Lars in the desert, clothes wind damaged and eyes tired in a way she could now recognize, Rose knew. They needed each other.

They were different sides of the same coin. A mortal now immortal and an immortal touched by mortality. Organic and inorganic life, trying to find their way to live with what they had experienced.

For the first time since she had reformed, the pit in her chest closed the tiniest bit.


	6. Love Like You

Lars was slow to walk to his destination. His steps were measured, his feet purposefully bare to feel the soft grass underneath. After countless years of walking in sand, Lars took every chance he got to walk on something, anything different. He stopped suddenly and sighed for what felt like the millionth time.

Why was he doing this to himself? Why did he think this was a good ide-

Lion bumped his nose against the small of Lars' back, staring up at him silently when Lars turned his attention to the large animal.

"I know, I know buddy."

Without another word or thought, Lars continued to climb up the familiar path. Despite the years and the ever-expanding nature of mankind, this place had remained untouched. Perhaps people just knew this wasn't a place to be messed with. Maybe it was the rumors about flesh eating moss.

Lars had the distinct feeling it was the latter reason, not the former, for humans giving this place a wide berth. The thought made Lars chuckle softly as he approached the entrance to what had once been Dead Man's Mouth.

Every couple years or so, him and Steven would come by this spot. Partially to remind themselves of their first "weird adventure" together, as Lars called it. Partially to make sure the moss hadn't returned.

It wasn't often that they found moss floating along the surface of the small lake, perhaps only a handful of occasions had ever forced them to act. As in all things that he did, over time Steven had found his own, unique way to wrangle and lead the tricky plant to the hill is would blossom on.

As Lars approached the edge of the water, he knew he would have his work cut out for him.

In the two hundred years that Steven had been dead, the moss had been left unattended once more. The lake was so full of it that the water was a deep green color where the moss wasn't floating along the top. He knew, without needing to stick his hand in, that the bottom and sides of the lake was heavily coated in the plant. Body sized mounds of dirt rested sporadically along the edge of the water, no doubt the remains of some poor animal that had come too close to the moss.

He edged a little bit closer, just enough so that the moss would know he was there. Once he saw it begin to twitch, begin to pull its way to shore, to inch and scuttle creepily towards him, Lars sighed once more and closed his eyes for a moment.

Just like everything he had done in his life, Steven found his own way to make things right. Even in something as mundane as helping his mother's moss bloom, Steven had found a way that worked for him. In following with the tradition Steven had set, Lars opened his mouth and began to sing.

 _If I could begin to be_  
 _Half of what you think of me_  
 _I could do about anything_  
 _I could even learn how to love_

When he opened his eyes, the moss was still making its way towards him. But the rigidness of its movements, the creepiness it had only a few moments ago, was gone.

Just as he remembered it doing before, the moss had begun to sway to the beat of his singing.

Turning on his heels, he turned his back to the moss and began to walk, Lion right at his side. He knew it would follow him from here.

 _When I see the way you act_  
 _Wondering when I'm coming back_  
 _I could do about anything_  
 _I could even learn how to love_  
 _Like you_

Lars focused on the path ahead of him, the words from Steven's song easily coming to mind. Lion trotted on ahead, the pavement of what used to be a road now nothing but gravel under his large paws. The giant cat looked back every twenty feet or so, making sure Lars still followed.

 _I always thought I might be bad_  
 _Now I'm sure that its true_  
 _'cause I think you're so good_  
 _And I'm nothing like you_

He could all but feel the moss at his heels, pushing small rocks and turf out of the way as it crept, faster and faster, behind him.

 _If I could begin to do_  
 _Something that does right by you_  
 _I would do about anything_  
 _I would even learn how to love_

The hill that had for millennia looked out over the valley Beach City had been nestled in drew closer and closer. As his toes curled in the grass at the very base of the hill, he felt the moss speed up suddenly and all but run past him as he continued to walk. It was older than him. Far older than him. It knew where to go from here.

Still, Lars continued the song, his voice now only just above a whisper.

 _When I see the way you look_  
 _Shaken by how long it took_  
 _I could do about anything_  
 _I could even learn how to love like you_

He watched, still climbing up the hill, as the clouds parted overhead as the moss reached the top. From the dark green mass sprung forth the same soft pink flowers it did the first time he and Steven had brought the moss to the hill. It was just as beautiful, as calming and wonderful, as it had been that very first time.

Lars smiled through tears that had probably been there since he'd begun to sing, watching as the town below was slowly coated in the floating blossoms.

It wasn't Beach City anymore, but that was ok.

He wasn't human anymore, but that was ok.

Steven wasn't here anymore, but it would be ok.

Lars wrapped his arms around himself, his grin growing wider as his tears turned from a bittersweet happiness to pure joy.

He'd learned how to love life because of Steven. He could learn how to do it again. He'd be ok.

 _Love me like you._


End file.
